


Don't You Know That's the Way Love Comes?

by ken_ichijouji (dommific)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Parks and Recreation, Awkward Flirting, Comedy, First Dance, Jewish Character, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9891197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/ken_ichijouji
Summary: Deputy Director of the Parks Department Victor Nikiforov gets the surprise of his life when the city government gets a visit from a pair of auditors.(The Yuri!!! On Ice Parks and Rec AU.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I had this idea months ago, and yes, I'm still working on "Cause I'm a Taker," but you know writing someone completely melting down because of anxiety gets a little...real. And sad. 
> 
> So I decided I needed to pause for some levity. 
> 
> The song that plays towards the end is "Close to You" by the Carpenters. And yes, Victor is low-key reform Jewish here. I head canon him that way, hope that's cool.
> 
> Obviously Yuri Plisetsky is aged up, since he's a college intern. He's eighteen. 
> 
> Baz is Mystery Swiss Skater Bae, btw.
> 
> Title from Spoon's "Do You?"

It’s an annual event on February 13th. Truthfully, it’s the high point of Victor Nikiforov’s year.

There is a table in Plushenko’s Diner with fourteen place settings, Victor’s name tag at the head. Cards covered in glitter and hearts sit on every placemat. There are over-stuffed bouquets of roses and lilies at various spots, red glitter everywhere...it’s like someone gave a kindergartener an unlimited budget for their first Valentine’s Day.

Yuri Plisetsky stares at the sight before looking into the camera. He is utterly nauseated in his pink and silver cone-shaped party hat.

*

“I thought I signed up for an internship at the Parks Department,” Yuri says to the camera. “Not some kind of creepy Hallmark cult.”

He thinks for a moment as he sips a glass of Coke with a straw.

“Though if this is like a Jonestown situation, that’s cool,” he makes sure to amend. “Or dare I even hope for Heaven’s Gate?”

*

A variety of people have arrived, sitting around the table. Several of them are Victor’s coworkers at the Parks and Recreation department. One in particular is his best friend outside of the office, a man in a pair of scrubs with a blond undercut named Chris Giacometti. 

There is a not insignificant amount of cat hair on his clothes. 

Victor claps his hands with a winning smile. “Welcome to the Third Annual Pal-entine’s Day!”

Phichit Chulanont, Victor’s assistant, snaps a series of photos for his Instagram. Then he uses the selfie camera to fix his hair.

Everyone is served waffles piled high with whipped cream and chocolate syrup, and Yuri again looks into one of the cameras as he glances down at his.

The group chats happily, enjoying the gathering for the most part. Yuri kind of sits sullenly and picks at his Belgian monstrosity. Georgi Popovich, who works with him and Victor, opens his card, exclaiming in frustration that glitter has shed all over his food. “Crap.”

Chris, who has been given a special crown as Victor’s Biggest Pal that is discoloring his hair where the construction paper rubs off on it, drinks a mimosa. He rests his chin on his hand and watches as Victor talks to his boss, Yakov Feltsman. Yakov is the only person at the table sans waffle---instead he has an obscenely high pile of crisp bacon and over-easy eggs.

*

Victor smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“I do this every year,” he says. “I love celebrating friendship! All of these people mean so much to me.”

He turns to look at the table, and Phichit takes a group selfie with Georgi and a beleaguered-looking Yuri. 

“It’s just---” He turns back, the smile running away from his face. “It’s also so I don’t feel so lonely when I think about tomorrow.”

Tomorrow being, of course, Valentine’s Day.

The smile returns, big and heart-shaped. “Anyways, I think it’s time for the games! Everyone loves the games I came up with!”

In the background, Yuri once again turns into a deer in headlights.

*

At the office after brunch, Phichit focuses on his computer. It’s intense, the way he stares at it, and Georgi and MJ Leroy watch with thinly veiled concern, having a conversation without words when they make eye contact. Yuri is brazenly napping at his desk, drool escaping his open mouth onto his leopard-print hoodie.

Victor sits in front of Yakov with the door closed.

Yakov gives Victor a long, considering look.

*

“Sometimes I get so frustrated,” Yakov says from behind his desk. His entire office is spartan aside from a portrait of a willowy brunette woman with a severe bun and cheekbones that can cut diamonds holding a tri-tip roast on a platter. She is not smiling. “It seems on the surface like Victor doesn’t take the job seriously. He’s always coming up with these hare-brained ideas that don’t make any sense, but when it counts, he delivers.”

Victor is seen through the glass in Yakov’s door rummaging through a file folder. He walks into his own closed door and without even pausing, opens it and steps inside.

Yakov sighs and pours himself two fingers of the vodka he keeps locked in his bottom drawer. He raises his glass silently to the camera and takes a long sip.

*

Yakov enters the main room of the Parks Department. He has a memo in his hand. Victor follows him out of his office, Phichit delayed behind him after Victor throws a crumpled ball of paper at his head. Yuri wakes up due to Victor repeating what he did to Phichit, and MJ and Georgi give their undivided attention.

“I just received word that our city’s budget is being reviewed by two state officers,” Yakov says. “So you know...I don’t think any of you have to worry, I’m sure we all have job security, but just in case, when they arrive...put on the best show you can.”

Phichit, whose blazer cost no less than four hundred dollars, nods. Yuri makes a face. Georgi’s expression turns serious. Victor’s folded his arms over his chest with a thoughtful expression.

MJ smiles and gives the thumbs up. “We’ll do everything we can!”

Everyone not Yakov stares at him, some as if they forgot he is even in the room. Yuri rolls his eyes and makes a noise of disgust.

MJ keeps smiling.

*

MJ holds up his badge. “So, actually, my name is Jean-Jacques Leroy, but when I got my job with the Parks Department four and a half years ago, the person doing my badge made a typo---”

The camera zooms in. It does, in fact, say MJ Leroy.

MJ shrugs. “It kind of just stuck! Though I correct people when I think to. It’s important they learn to recognize JJ style!”

He winks and makes a gesture with his hands crossed over his body and his fingers aligned into Js.

*

Phichit is back at his computer, once again with a laser-focus. Victor sits in the shared office looking at some papers. 

“This audit or whatever better not get me fired,” Phichit says. “I’m in the midst of redecorating.”

“Didn’t you just do that?” Victor asks with a look at him.

“It’s been a whole four months,” Phichit says as if that answers everything. “The color scheme has turned agitating, and my hamsters don’t sleep properly anymore. It’s a necessity to restore balance, Victor. What do you think of these Pantone swatches?”

Phichit holds out two colored squares. One is a slightly lighter shade of pastel purple than the other.

“They’re the sa---” Victor blinks, then he gives Phichit a placating expression. “The left.”

Phichit smiles. “That’s what I thought too! The lilac is definitely better than the lavender.” 

Victor sighs. “Shouldn’t you be working? We have that celebration at the zoo for the penguin marriage in a few.”

Phichit hms. “Outdoor wedding, right? Do we have a bowtie and a veil for them?”

“First things I ordered,” Victor says with a bright grin. He pulls out a black and silver pinstriped bowtie that is penguin sized and a white and silver veil. 

Phichit squeals. “Oh God, that’s cute!” He snaps a pic with his phone. It immediately goes up on Instagram. “Okay so what about flowers or decor?” Phichit paces around their office.

“We got some ice sculptures,” Victor answers. “It’s more appropriate, I think.”

“Good call,” Phichit says with a nod. “Do we have music?”

“I found a local up and coming DJ,” Victor says. He hands Phichit a flyer---on it is a severe looking man with an undercut in a leather jacket and sunglasses. Otabek Altin, it says with an email address for bookings. “He’s making a pro-penguin-marriage mixtape.”

“Baller,” Phichit says. 

Victor looks at him with his brows drawn together. “Wait, people still say _baller_?”

Phichit rolls his eyes. “You’re so old.”

Victor collapses onto the floor in a heap clutching his chest. His hair falls into his eyes, obscuring his face. “Oh God. I am. You’re right.” 

Phichit looks into the camera with wide-eyes before kneeling down next to his supervisor. “You’re fine. You’re...not like...Yakov.” Phichit winces, realizing the lack of comfort he offers. 

Victor doesn’t move. He does, however, choke back a sob.

*

Phichit shrugs. “Truthfully, government isn’t my passion. I’m saving up so I can become the majority shareholder in the hottest nightclub here in town, the Snakehole Lounge. I want to get into event planning, really put us on the map. I’ll be branching out further into entrepreneurship once that takes off, and from there, the sky’s the limit!”

Phichit checks his hair in his selfie camera. His phone case is green with a hamster on it.

“Really though,” he says as he holds up a picture of a veritable hamster army in a habitat that takes up the entire spare room in his apartment. They’re varying breeds and colors---it’s an aesthetically pleasing assortment, to be sure. “I work so my babies can have a better life.”

*

Victor has on a pair of sunglasses as he and Phichit carry the necessary goods for the penguin wedding to his car. “We won’t be back today, you all have a good one!” Victor calls over his shoulder.

Yuri rolls his eyes. Georgi smiles and waves. MJ salutes with a wink. Yakov doesn’t even notice.

Phichit buckles up into Victor’s passenger seat as Victor opens the sunroof. Phichit has on his own Versace shades, and he selfies at the right angle so people can see Victor in the driver’s seat. They take off to the zoo, Victor putting on his jams.

This lasts for five seconds.

“Dude---” Phichit says. “I’ve heard better music in an Applebee’s bathroom.”

“It’s Belle and Sebastian,” Victor retorts, with an affronted expression.

Phichit plugs his iPhone into Victor’s aux cable. A funk beat from an electric bass starts playing as a man sings about a girl needing to pay his rent. Victor’s expression changes to grudging enjoyment as they pull up to the zoo.

They park, exit the car, and head to the exhibit. Victor is presiding over the ceremony, and many classes from the local elementary schools are present to bear witness to this special day. The penguins are snuggling as they approach the enclosure.

A zookeeper that Victor hasn’t worked with previously gives them an odd look. “Hello?”

“Hi! Victor Nikiforov, Deputy Director of the Parks Department,” Victor says with a charming smile. He extends a hand. The zookeeper reluctantly shakes it.

“We’re here to marry your penguins!” Phichit chimes in.

The zookeeper gets a horrified expression. 

Victor blinks in confusion then understanding dawns on his face. “Oh I mean...to each other. We’re marrying them to each other. We’re not marrying them ourselves.”

Her relief is palpable. Then she frowns. “Wait. No one told you?”

“Told us what?” Phichit asks.

“We apparently misgendered Muffy,” she answers. “Duffy and Muffy are both boys.”

Phichit and Victor look at each other for a minute. “So?” Victor asks. “It’s 2017. We’re a progressive town, and they’re penguins. It’s still cute. Everything’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Phichit adds. “I doubt anyone will be offended.”

The zookeeper’s expression says she’s unconvinced, but she helps them ready Muffy and Duffy anyways. Victor puts on his yarmulke and clears his throat. 

The children watch in rapt attention. Too bad a penguin’s weight can’t support stepping on the glass, Victor thinks. He reads the vows, Altin plays a suitably updated and eclectic compilation of wedding song remixes, and the penguins get hitched. The kids cheer, and Phichit takes an unbearable amount of photos on the Parks department’s DSLR. 

It goes without a single flaw, and Victor and Phichit drive back to the office so Phichit can pick up his Mini Cooper.

* 

Victor watches Phichit take wedding portraits of the penguins. He has a look on his face that’s part wistful and part overjoyed.

“As long as they’re happy, I’m happy,” he says.

*

A man with long, fabulous hair in a ponytail comes into the Parks office followed by a shorter man in glasses with soft, kind brown eyes. “Ciao Ciao!” the ponytailed man calls.

Yuri, whose hand rests on his chin, gives him an unimpressed look. He pops a green bubble he blew with his gum. “Yeah?”

Georgi and MJ glare at Yuri. Georgi stands and fixes his tie. “Yes, hello! My name is Georgi Popovich, can I help you?”

“Celestino Cialdini,” the man says as he gives Georgi a brisk handshake. “I’m one of the auditors sent from the state. This is my assistant, Katsuki Yuuri.” 

The shorter man smiles and nods.

Yuri glares at him. “We can’t have two Yuris. I refuse.”

“Yuri,” Georgi shushes him.

Yuuri Katsuki gives Yuri Plisetsky a look that’s a combination of perplexed and intimidated. “You can call me Auditor Yuuri to avoid confusion,” he offers with a polite smile.

Yuri is unappeased, his jaw clenched with visible irritation.

Yakov steps out of his office. “Ah, Celestino,” he says. They shake hands.

“Always nice to see you, Yakov,” Celestino replies. “Have you met Katsuki Yuuri?”

Yuri makes an aggrieved noise. Everyone else ignores him, including the other Yuuri.

“I’ve heard the name,” Yakov says. He shakes hands with Yuuri. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Yuuri says with a bow.

Celestino’s smile lights up the room. “We’re just introducing ourselves to every department, saying hello, that kind of thing. And I want you all to understand that Yuuri and I---we’re not the bad guys. We’re here to review how the town operates and see where we can trim the fat.”

Yuuri’s expression, oddly, doesn’t match Celestino’s words, but no one seems to realize it. His face is much more serious than his boss’s bright grin. He glances around the room. “Wait, are we missing people?”

“Yes,” MJ says. “The Deputy Director and his Assistant are at the zoo marrying penguins.”

Yuuri’s expression becomes disturbed, his skin going pale.

“Oh,” MJ says. “No, they’re marrying the penguins to each other. They’re not marrying the penguins themselves.”

The normal coloring returns to Yuuri’s face. “Ah,” he says. Then he frowns. “Kind of a poor allocation of funds, isn’t it?”

Georgi and MJ look at each other with a curious expression. Yuri blows and pops another bubble. 

Yakov shrugs. “Well, Victor figured it was a good educational opportunity for the children. Most of the elementary classes made a field trip out of the wedding and spent the rest of today at the zoo learning about various ecosystems. Educating while having fun, that sort of thing.”

Yuuri remains unconvinced. Celestino is still smiling. 

“We’ll let you get back to work,” Celestino says. “We have more rounds to make. Ciao Ciao!” He walks towards the door, Yuuri bowing and following him. 

Yuri pops another bubble. “This is unacceptable.”

“Yeah, what if they totally kill our budget?” Georgi asks.

“No, he seriously can’t also be called Yuuri,” Yuri says. “That’s so unfair---I’ve been here longer. He needs to be called something else. Like King Pig.”

Yakov sighs and gives Yuri a pointed look. Yuri gives one right back.

*

“Personally, I hope they kill our budget,” Yakov says. “I actually believe the government is a waste of bureaucracy and money. Get rid of the bloating, that’s my philosophy.”

There’s a handmade map on his desk. Yakov quickly hides it with an expression saying “you saw nothing.”

“My gold is my business,” he snaps like a dragon protecting its hoard.

*

Victor sits on a couch in his home with a brown Standard poodle staring at him as he eats moo goo gai pan straight out of the container. Chris sits at the opposite end from him while lounging, having changed out of his scrubs into street clothes covered in white cat hair.

Chris takes a sip of his beer. “You know,” he says. “I get what you’re doing.”

“Hm?” Victor asks with his mouth full. The poodle licks his lips, hope springing eternal in his dark eyes that Victor will drop something.

Chris smiles and takes another pull of his beer. “You think if you’re always at work or around friends, you won’t be lonely. I’ve noticed you wanting to hang out more, and I don’t mind really, but Victor...it’s been three years since you even went on a single date with someone.”

Victor swallows. “It's fine.”

“It's not,” Chris replies. 

Victor sets his food on his coffee table. The dog follows it with rapt attention. Victor sighs. “It's not.”

Chris pats his knee. “Baz has some hot single co-workers,” he says. “We can set you up.”

Victor shrugs. “I don't know. What do I have in common with a bunch of accountants?”

“You don't know until you try,” Chris answers. “It's worth a shot. And it's only fair that someone who works so hard to make his friends happy is happy himself.”

“Yeah,” Victor says, looking at the camera for a second to express his disbelief.

“There’s this one guy in particular,” Chris says. “His name’s Marcus. Green eyes for days and an ass that won’t quit. Smart too. I think he might be the one.”

Victor grabs his food and picks out all the pork. His poodle drifts back to him, visibly drooling. “Makkachin, no, you had dinner,” he admonishes. “It’s not that I haven’t tried at all---”

Chris perks up. “Oh. Dish, girlfriend.”

“Men,” Victor says. “Are disgusting.”

“Hey!” Chris complains around a mouth of Kung Pao chicken.

Victor gives him an incredulous look.

Chris is instantly cowed. “Yeah, we’re nasty.”

They eat in companionable silence minus the occasional whine from Makkachin.

*

Chris sighs, alone with the cameraman. Victor putters around in the background with Makkachin, prepping him for a walk.

“Victor kind of has this self-fulfilling prophecy thing with his love life,” he explains. “He had a bad break up and ever since he won’t try. But since he won’t try, he stays alone. But then he visibly hates that he’s alone, but then he doesn’t try---”

The back door swings shut as Victor takes the poodle out.

“I dunno. I even tried to bring him to my pole dancing class to meet people…” Chris’s expression changes, turning defensive. “It’s _for fitness_.”

*

Victor arrives first at the Parks department the following morning, turning on the lights and making himself a cup of French Toast Keurig coffee. He glides into his office, where the camera pans around his covered-in-photos-of-Makkachin desk. Victor picks up a file folder about a specific project, turning an abandoned lot in a neighborhood into a new community park.

“This is my baby,” he says somewhere between to himself and to the film crew. “Yakov thinks it’s imprudent, but I think...I think if it happens, it’ll make the town sing. It’s my pride and joy.”

He steps back into the main office, reading the folder and catching his hip on the corner of a doorframe. He sits in their conference room by himself, spreading out data sheets, schematics by their city planner, Mila, and budgetary proposals. He’s going before the city council in two weeks to make the case for the park project, and he needs to be sharp.

Yakov filters in wearing a hat and trench he hangs on the post in his office. Georgi is next with a motorcycle helmet. MJ follows on the phone with his wife, Isabella. “No, honey...no I didn’t forget…” he says. “I’ll make sure to run by the store when I leave the office. Je t’aime.”

MJ hangs up. Yuri comes in wearing a hoodie pulled up obscuring his face, long blond hair peeking out. He sits at his desk, sprawled in his chair with his leopard Vans propped on his keyboard.

The phone rings.

Georgi and MJ stare at Yuri.

Yuri looks at cat memes on his computer instead of answering it. Yakov gives him a deadpan thumbs up, and Yuri returns it as the ringing continues for several minutes until the caller surrenders. 

Phichit, as always, is late with a Venti latte from Starbucks. When he arrives, he pauses to selfie with his coffee. He heads into the office he shares with Victor.

Victor gives their arrivals almost no notice as he makes notes and formulates a plan. Yakov keeps telling him this is a silly idea, but how could it be? Victor hears someone he doesn’t work with come into the department office, exchanging a few words with Georgi. Yuri groans loudly and whines, “Great, it’s Inferior Yuuri.”

The person makes an abrupt, shocked sound. Phichit calls out a “Wow, _rude_ ,” as a response. Victor glances up to see Phichit standing before a man he doesn’t recognize with coal-black hair and glasses. 

Then he stares.

“Hi, Phichit Chulanont,” Phichit says as he extends a hand.

The man smiles. “Katsuki Yuuri,” he responds as he shakes his hand. “I’m one of the auditors, assisting Celestino.”

Victor stands like he’s being compelled via hypnosis by magic flute. The documentary crew whips the cameras to him as they follow. He stands in the conference room doorway. Yuuri glances at him before double-taking. 

Music suddenly blares from a pair of speakers.

_Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near? Just like me, they long to be close to you---_

Victor and Yuuri gaze at each other like they’re the only people in the world to ever exist, like two lost souls who finally found each other. 

“Oh God gross!” Yuri shouts. “Who listens to this garbage? It’s nauseating.”

“Sorry,” MJ says as he pauses Spotify. “Isabella and I danced to this song at Prom. It’s special to me.”

“What the hell, are you like...sixty?” Phichit complains. “Also use your headphones.”

MJ shrugs. “It’s just JJ style!”

Yuuri and Victor haven’t moved. Finally Victor returns to reality, shaking his head back and forth like a wet dog. “Hello. Victor Nikiforov, Deputy Parks Director.”

Yuuri pushes up his glasses, ducking down his face. “Katsuki Yuuri. I’m an auditor.” Victor extends a hand, and Yuuri shakes it. Victor lingers, unable to keep himself from running his thumb over Yuuri’s knuckles. Yuuri’s face turns even redder, and he tries to look away. “Um, well, I came to introduce myself since---you and Phichit---penguins---”

“Penguins,” Victor says. “Oh! Penguins. Right. Lovely ceremony, mazel tov to them. I think they’ll go the distance.” He hasn’t let go of Yuuri’s hand. It’s his left one, and he feels for a ring. 

There isn’t one.

Victor noticeably lights up. He opens his mouth, but before he can speak Yuuri frees himself from his grasp. “Yes, well I uh...need to go back. To work. In my own office.” He clears his throat and still won’t make eye contact with Victor. “Nice to meet everyone.” He heads out, turning to look at Victor again, and he crashes into a counter, almost falling ass over teakettle. “I’m okay!” he says as he walks around it the second time and leaves.

Phichit smiles. “What a nice fellow.”

*

Victor stares into the camera in disbelief. He fidgets for a while, opening and closing his hands. Then he wipes his fingers over his forehead, pressing one to his lips as his eyes cloud in deep thought.

“Does love at first sight exist?” he asks.

He looks down at the hand that shook Yuuri’s.

“I might---” He clears his throat. “Maybe I just turned into living proof that it does."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Parks department throws a Seniors' Mixer and Yuuri and Victor get to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!
> 
> This chapter heavily features the Awkward Mating Habits of Yuri Plisetsky. Friendly reminder that he's a college intern in this because you know I don't think interns in high school exist. (Well okay when I was in high school during the Mesolithic era, there wasn't such a thing anyhow. Trade school for half a day yes, government internships nah.) Actually you know, it might go without saying that they've all been aged up except Ciao Ciao and Yakov. It doesn't seem plausible to me that a 20 year old would be an Assistant to a Deputy Director in the government, or that a 19 year old would be in Jerry's job, you know? So they're all nebulously older in some ways. Otabek's 20.
> 
> As the last dance I attended not at an anime con was when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, I had to fudge Otabek's music choices and make an assumption on what those whacky kids are into these day. The main song you need to know is "At My Most Beautiful" by REM. 
> 
> I can't wait to show you where some of the other characters end up in this universe.

Victor Nikiforov sits at his desk, reviewing some files. He is alone, Phichit Chulanont having not arrived yet for the day. It is technically outside of the Parks department’s operating hours, and Victor is putting in overtime.

“There’s a dance tonight at the Rec center,” he says. “It’s a Seniors’ Mixer.”

The camera cuts to a flyer on his desk. “SEMI-ANNUAL SENIORS MIXER, it proclaims in bright red font with pictures of adorable old people slow dancing two feet apart like they’re students at a Catholic school prom. It lists the time and day, that there will be punch and cookies, and that a live DJ is provided.

Victor’s cellphone buzzes---his ringtone is “Get the Party Started” by Pink. “Hello,” he answers. His facial expression changes from listening to disappointed. “Ah well...you can’t help that.” He nods a few times as the person speaks again. “Yeah, sure. Dengue fever is serious.” Another pause. “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

Victor hangs up. He flops into his chair and leans all the way back so he’s staring at the ceiling. 

“The DJ for tonight just canceled,” he says up to the sky. “Now what will I do?”

*

Georgi types at his desk, intent but not hyperfocused, as he does his assigned paperwork. An email pops up in his Outlook---it’s from Phichit.

“Phichit, you know you can just walk over here, right?” Georgi asks without missing a beat.

As the camera pans to Phichit, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Georgi opens the email. It’s an animated GIF with a time and a place on it. Georgi immediately lights up and then looks at his calendar. “Wow it’s already been a year?”

Now Phichit walks over with a bright smile. “Just want to make sure you remember about next week!”

The two of them point at each other and sing “Treat Yo’Self 2017----” and then double-high five.

In the background, Yuri stares at them with open wariness and confusion.

*

Georgi and Phichit stand in a hallway before the camera.

“Every year, Georgi and I spend a day devoted to loving… _us_ ,” Phichit says.

“It’s called Treat Yo’Self!” Georgi adds. “We go shopping, we eat fancy food. We do it up right!”

“The only limit is our imaginations,” Phichit says. “Whatever Phichit and Georgi want, Phichit and Georgi get. It’s not until next week, but I wanted to make sure Georgi has his calendar cleared.”

“Last year I bought a Benz!” Georgi adds with a jubilant smile and finger guns. “No regrets.”

*

Yuri refreshes his Tumblr dashboard six times in the span of two minutes. He primarily follows blogs about cats and Russian street fashion. As usual, he is in a hoodie and animal print. 

A man walks into the Parks department in sunglasses and leather with a gray scarf. He wears his black hair in an undercut and on his feet are motorcycle boots. Yuri glances up at him, utterly diffident, before looking a second time and staring.

“Hey,” the guy says. “I’m looking for Victor.”

Yuri blinks. He is uncharacteristically silent.

“Otabek!” Victor exclaims. He shakes the man’s hand and gives him an unsealed envelope. “Here’s the check. Thanks again...the wedding wouldn’t have been the same without you!”

Otabek opens the envelope and pulls out the check, reading it to check for typos or mistakes. He puts it back in its envelope. “Everything’s in order. Thanks, Victor. If you ever need me again---”

Victor immediately lights up. “Wait. Are you free tonight? I realize it’s not any kind of notice, but I had a DJ lined up who is having a health emergency, and now I could really use your help.”

Otabek takes off his sunglasses---his eyes are serious, dark and piercing. Yuri’s turn into green saucers. “What’s the gig?”

Victor rubs his neck. “Well it’s not...glamourous, but the Rec Center is having a Seniors’ Mixer.”

Otabek rubs his chin. “Hm, so you’d want like wedding DJ music?”

“High School Dance, actually,” Victor says. “Is that plausible? I’ll pay extra for the trouble.”

“Yeah, I have a mix for that, actually,” Otabek says. “Sure, I’m on board. What time can I set up?”

Victor smiles. “It starts at eight, so...six-thirty, seven?”

Otabek nods and shakes his hand a second time. “Can do.” He glances around the office, his gaze lingering on Yuri for a moment, whose eyes in response. “See you tonight, Victor!”

He leaves the way he came, and Victor sighs. “Oh what a relief, I was running out of Craigslist options. Now I just need more chaperones---”

“I’ll do it.” Yuri says.

Victor---actually all of them, turn to him with varying degrees of confusion. “Wait what?”

“I’ll go, I’ll chaperone,” Yuri says. It is then he realizes the looks he is receiving, and he sputters, reverting back to his default state. “I mean, or I won’t. I don’t care. Old people are boring.”

Everyone shrugs and goes back to their tasks except Victor. Victor stares at Yuri with a raised eyebrow. “...Sure. We can use the help. Can you come early to help decorate? We need to be there around when Otabek is.”

“I guess,” Yuri replies.

Victor’s expression shifts to slight confusion. He raises his chin. “Okay. Well. Thanks.” He goes back into his office. 

Yuri looks back to where Otabek stood and then looks down at his keyboard with a hidden, small smile.

*

It’s lunchtime, Victor having been forced to take his break by Yakov, and he carries his food out to City Hall’s courtyard for some fresh air.

Sitting at a table by himself with a book and a bento box is Katsuki Yuuri. He eats something with chopsticks that looks like breaded meat, keeping his attention focused on the pages of his novel. Victor watches him for a minute with a look of intense longing. 

“Yuuuuuuuuuuuri!” he calls with a huge grin, which, weirdly, is heart-shaped. 

Yuuri chokes, having not expected the intrusion. He coughs a few times, Victor looking at him with concern. “Uh---” he manages once he regains his composure. “Hello, Victor.”

“May I join you?” Victor says. His voice is tinged with hope.

Yuuri blushes. He averts his gaze and nods.

Victor sits, still with his bright smile. He un-bags his food---Yuuri’s lunch is vastly more elaborate than Victor’s pastrami sandwich on rye, chips, and a giant slice of coconut cake. Victor takes a bite of his sandwich and chews. “So. How are you adjusting to our happy town?”

Yuuri looks startled, like he didn’t expect Victor to actually speak. It’s enough to shock him into making eye contact. “So far, it’s nice here. Much different than the big city I’ve lived in for a while. It reminds me a lot of where I grew up.”

Victor gives him a dreamy, interested look. “Where is that?” He opens the bag of chips as Yuuri sips his soda. 

Yuuri hedges, but in a different way than a moment ago. “Oh it’s...it’s not an interesting story.”

Victor glances at the camera. “Okay. Well, what else about you? What are your hobbies? What’s your favorite food? Do you have a girlfriend?”

Yuuri sputters again. “I have a lot of hobbies like reading and gaming, my favorite food is my mother’s katsudon, and no, I don’t usually date...girls.”

Victor perks up at that last. “What’s katsudon?”

“It’s what I’m eating right now,” Yuuri says with a gesture---there’s a pile of rice, the meat, and a cooked egg in his box. “It’s a fried pork cutlet with egg, sauce, and rice. She gave me the recipe when I moved out for college.”

“It looks tasty,” Victor says with a smile. He makes sure to hold their eye contact.

This loosens Yuuri up. “It is,” he says. He smiles, a soft, shy one, and the two of them continue talking over lunch.

They’re both late getting back to work.

*

Yuuri makes a sheepish expression to the cameraman in his office. He has a still-packed box of personal affects sitting on a side table next to his desk with a Y written on it in blue Sharpie. Otherwise, the office is bare, yet to be made into a home.

“He asked me so many questions, I was afraid he’d bring up my book,” he says while fidgeting. 

The camera zooms in, and it’s a copy of the first _Outlander_ novel in paperback.

Yuuri pushes up his glasses. He sighs, marking his place with a metal bookmark etched with toy poodles. Then he gives a self-effacing shrug. “Sometimes I want something juicier than _The Brothers Karamazov_ or _Doctor Zhivago_. Which, actually is my favorite. I’m really into Russian literature and film.”

He smiles, charming and sincere.

*

“Ciao ciao!” calls Celestino as he enters the Parks department. “Is Yakov free?”

“Yakov’s on the phone,” Yuri replies without even looking.

Celestino looks into his office---Yakov is staring into space. The phone is in its cradle. He looks back at Yuri. He continues to smile, unperturbed. “I’ll just let him know I’m here.”

Yuri makes a noise as Celestino knocks on the closed door. Yakov glances at him, then waves him in.

“Ciao ciao!” Celestino says. “I’m just wondering if it’s feasible for you to give Yuuri admin rights to the Parks financial data. It’ll speed up our analysis and budget preparation.”

Yakov nods. “That seems like a good idea. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“No need,” Celestino says with a wave. “I’ll handle everything. I just wanted to clear it before I made the call.”

“Thanks,” Yakov says. 

Something makes a faint buzz. Celestino checks the time on his smart watch. “Ah yes.” He pulls out a blister pack for pills, selecting one in particular. “Is there water?”

“In the cooler outside,” Yakov says with a wave.

“Perfect,” thank you,” Celestino says. “Be in touch, Yakov!” he waves over his shoulder.

Yakov waves back even though he can’t see it.

Then he returns to staring at the wall.

*

Celestino holds up the blister pack. “I am always determined to be the best me I can be. And that means keeping my body in top shape.”

The pills rattle around the pack.

“Mostly herbal supplements, like St. John’s Wort and Echinacea,” he explains. “But I have some vitamins too, like a D booster and C to prevent scurvy.” 

He grows decidedly serious, the first time he hasn’t smiled since he came to town.

“Scurvy. Scurvy is a curse on humanity,” Celestino informs the camera with a shudder.

*

The Parks department staff puts up crepe paper and red heart balloons around the Rec Center as Otabek sets up his equipment in the corner. Yuri hovers near his table and doesn’t get much accomplished. 

Victor watches with obvious and dark amusement.

Chris is also present, setting up a station with First Aid equipment and a defibrillator.

*

“Last year, it got a little nuts,” Chris says. “Mrs. Langingham led a bunch of the men on and a fight broke out.”

His eyes cloud over with a faraway and somewhat traumatized expression.

“Walkers flying everywhere,” he says. “False teeth getting shattered, and people slipping on them. The rigorous brawling leading to cardiac episodes...”

He snaps out of it with thinly-veiled fear.

“The horror…” Chris says. “The horror.”

*

The party is in full swing, Otabek blaring “Oops! I Did It Again” at a fun-yet-reasonable volume, and Victor sits with Chris as the rest of the staff mingles with the Seniors. 

Phichit, because of course, set up a special area for Instagram photos that he’s primarily utilizing because many of the attendees don’t have smartphones. He’s charming the ladies right and left, some of the men too, as he pulls them into his selfies.

Georgi ladles punch for their guests, and MJ is at the door, taking and selling the tickets.

The song changes from Britney to Kesha, and Otabek makes the transition easily with his board. Yuri tries to look like he isn’t paying attention.

The seniors form Soul Train lines and dance down them one at a time, cheering each other on. Phichit takes a video for his Snapchat story.

It is actually pretty cool, not going to lie.

Victor watches the couples dancing together with his face cradled in his hands. He sighs. Chris gives him a sideways look. “What’s up? This is normally a fun time for you.”

Victor shrugs. “I met someone, and I wish he was here, is all. Maybe I could dance with him.”

Chris looks at the camera as if to say _this bitch_. “You met someone and didn’t tell me?”

Victor blinks. He snaps his head to Chris. “Oh! I guess I didn’t! Nothing personal.”

Chris still looks unimpressed. “Sure.”

Victor smiles. “He’s beautiful, Chris! His name is Yuuri, and he’s lovely, I had lunch with him today! He has the prettiest eyes, and his hair looks so soft! And he cooks! And reads! And he loves poodles like I do!”

Chris grows more interested as Victor talks. Finally, he says, “Well, why don’t you text him to meet you here?”

Victor grabs his cellphone with great justice until his face falls. “I...I didn’t get his number yet.”

“Now I realize you’ve been out of the game a while,” Chris says as kindly as he can. “But that’s a Rookie mistake, not one that should be made by a man such as yourself.”

Victor drops his face into the table and groans. “I know. I’m awful.”

Chris pats his back, rubbing between his shoulders. “There, there.”

A man, way too young to be a senior, comes into the dance hall. Chris raises an eyebrow at him, then he looks him up and down with interest. “One of yours?” he says with a nudge at Victor. 

Victor forces himself out of his enormous melancholia to look up. His face brightens like it’s on a dimmer switch. “Yuuri!”

Chris openly stares. “Wow. Your taste is exquisite, Victor.”

Yuuri is in casual clothing as opposed to his usual shirt and tie. He looks around before seeing Victor, his cheeks flushing when he does. He hesitates, tentatively taking a step forward. Then he seems to talk himself out of it, heading towards Phichit instead. 

“So he’s shy hm?” Chris asks.

“Yeah,” Victor says. “I should go talk to him! And ask him to dance!”

“Yes, I would say those are good ideas,” Chris agrees.

Victor stands, loosening his tie. Phichit takes selfie after selfie with Yuuri, who looks cute but also a bit flabbergasted. The two of them chatter---well, Phichit chatters, Yuuri answers where appropriate. He loosens up as it goes on, becoming more animated and smiling wider as he gets his own phone out and shows Phichit something on his camera roll.

Victor’s mouth contorts into a flat line, his eyes going dull.

“What are you waiting for?” Chris says before his eyes follow Victor’s. He frowns for a second before his expression clears. “Oh. Well, I’m sure Phichit’s just being friendly.”

Otabek plays “Cake By the Ocean,” and the other Yuri sips punch and looks out the corner of his eye, focusing on the shape of his brow. Otabek glances at him and gives him a thumb’s up with a deadpan expression. Yuri stares and turns bright red. He makes a weird noise like a wet cat and moves two inches closer.

Chris looks at Victor again and gives the camera another look like _you have got to be kidding_. “Victor.”

Victor starts, giving him a look.

Chris grumbles. “They’re probably not flirting. You know it’s just Phichit’s personality.”

“Yeah,” Victor concedes. His resolve returns. “Right!” He heads over, interrupting Phichit and Yuuri, Phichit smiling at him and taking pictures of them as a trio. Victor stands in the middle, and as he presses Yuuri close, Yuuri turns bright red and gives him a sideways look that’s surprisingly fond.

Phichit looks at the picture when he’s done taking it. His eyebrow raises, and he smiles.

*

Phichit holds up the picture as Fatboy Slim’s “Praise You” blares through the closed doors of the dance hall. 

“In this corner,” he begins. “We have the Deputy Director of the Parks Department, handsome, upbeat, and well-dressed, daddy of Makkachin, Victor Nikiforov.”

He points to Yuuri.

“And in this corner,” he continues. “We have Assistant to the State Auditor, also handsome, also well-dressed, not so much upbeat as cute when flustered, double-majored in dance and public policy with a minor in accounting, Katsuki Yuuri.”

Phichit grins at the camera. “What happens next will warm your heart!” he proclaims like the living embodiment of Buzzfeed.

Which, let’s be real, he kind of is.

*

Yuuri glances at Victor with pink cheeks. “I um...I thought I’d see your department in action. Since I missed the penguin nuptials, I mean. Phichit showed me some photos, though. It was cute. The kids seemed happy.”

Victor gives him a winning smile. “They were! The cheering was boisterous! And they learned a lot at the zoo.”

Yuuri changes his standing position and Victor sort-of subtly looks at his ass in his jeans. Well, Yuuri misses it, but Chris doesn’t, flashing Victor a thumbs up from across the room. Victor makes a motion with his hands, and Chris pretends to be otherwise occupied, paying too much attention to his stock of gauze.

The music changes to a slow song with a piano intro. The crowd thins on the dancefloor as couples sway together. It’s cute and somewhat romantic, though Victor is vigilant for the first fist to be thrown.

He also realizes there’s an opportunity if ever he’s seen one. “Would you care to dance?” he asks Yuuri.

Yuuri’s eyes widen as his glasses slip down his nose. “Me?” he asks with a finger pointing at his own chest. He gives the camera a disbelieving stare for a moment.

“No, the other Katsuki Yuuri,” Victor teases. “Yes. Would you like to?”

Yuuri swallows. He doesn’t speak, but he offers a hand. Victor lights up, taking it, and they walk to a secluded corner on the dancefloor.

Michael Stipe sings as Yuuri backseat leads Victor in a waltz. 

_You always say your name like I wouldn’t know it’s you at your most beautiful. I’ve found a way to make you...I’ve found a way, a way to make you smile…_

They don’t notice the fight breaking out until a chair soars barely over Victor’s head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TREAT YO'SELF 201777777777777777777

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring arguably the most Canadian music taste ever.
> 
> I have never written a character more "me" than I have Phichit with his escargot. You are welcome for this unrequested look into my tastes and psyche.
> 
> I'm sure we can't tell what Yuuri's one outfit is modeled after, it's absolutely not the Eros costume how dare you.
> 
> Now with more Awkward Otabek.
> 
> Also let's welcome Lilia!
> 
>  **ETA:** OH MY GOD, bigbigtruck drew fanart of the Treat Yo'Self Trip: [It's so cool!](https://twitter.com/bbt_yoi/status/892111768708886531)

It is time. It is the day to end all days as far as Georgi Popovich and Phichit Chulanont are concerned.

Phichit enters the Parks department in a red sports coat and Hugo Boss sunglasses. Behind him is a person carrying a large boom box. Phichit points at Georgi, who is in purple with big sunglasses of his own. Georgi points back with a grin.

The person hits play on the boom box. The intro to Beyonce’s “Crazy in Love” starts.

“TREAT YO’SELF 2017!” they exclaim while high-fiving.

Yuri Plisetsky stares into the camera with visible disbelief.

 

*

 

“How am I the only sane person on this ship?” Yuri bellows to the camera with a snarl. He pounds his fists on his desk, and his Mewtwo collection bounces into the air.

 

*

 

Phichit and Georgi head out the door together, the boom box blaring behind them. A little down the hall is Katsuki Yuuri, who is exiting the City Hall IT department.

He does not look pleased. 

Understatement of the year, his expression is like a green funnel cloud.

Phichit lowers his sunglasses as if he’s checking Yuuri out. Then he winks at the camera. “Hey. Come here often?” he says with a leer.

Yuuri makes a noise with a glare aimed at the IT guys. “The intranet is down. I can’t do my job.”

Phichit grins. He wraps an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. “Come with us.”

Yuuri blinks at him, but doesn’t resist as Georgi flanks his other side, the music following them to the parking deck and Georgi’s assigned space for his Benz convertible. The locks make their usual chirp as he opens the car, and Phichit shoves Yuuri into the back seat to slide in next to him.

“Uh…” Yuuri adjusts his glasses. “Kidnapping is a crime.”

“It is,” Georgi agrees with cheer. “We’re not doing that though. We’re going to the Plaza Eagleton.”

“Ugh Eagleton,” Phichit wails. He mimes fainting.

Yuuri gives the camera a weird look. “Okay.”

Georgi turns on the music as he pulls out of his space. “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” blares as he drives fifteen over the speed limit to the mall in question.

 

*

 

Georgi sips on a freshly made 20 ounce green juice while Phichit is seen in the background hauling Yuuri to the personal shopping department in Nordstrom.

Georgi glances at them over his sunglasses with obvious approval. He looks back at the camera.

“I hope I can find lots of cashmere,” he muses. “Probably a nice new watch. And I hope Phichit can get Yuuri a less hideous tie collection. Everything else he wears is like---” He does an Italian chef kiss. “But...those _ties_.”

 

*

 

Chris checks the time on his cell as Victor rushes towards the booth he sits in at an Italian place. “Hi, sorry. I lost track of time.”

Chris sips his iced tea. “Sure, it’s only been about ten minutes since I got seated.”

Victor smiles and loosens his tie. Their server comes, and Victor orders a glass of ginger ale. He peruses the menu, Chris having already decided on his order. When she returns, she takes their orders: a warm spinach salad with grilled salmon for Chris, cannoli, tiramisu, limoncello cake, and a chocolate torta for Victor. 

“Diabetes,” Chris points out.

Victor gives him a confused look. “Hm?”

Chris sighs. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.” He picks a thick white cat hair off his scrub shirt. “So...how’s it going with your cute Yuuri?”

Victor sighs. “I’ve hardly seen him since the dance, he stays holed up in his office. I only have coincidentally had lunch with him the one time! And because the world is unjust and I did something in a past life to deserve torture, he is more beautiful every time I catch a glimpse.”

Chris gives the camera a look that’s somewhere between bewildered and approving. “Ah. Well...call him and have a drink, won’t you?”

Victor raises an index finger as his desserts arrive. He takes a bite of each. “Yeah. Yeah I’m gonna.”

“Today?” Chris says. His salad comes then, and he takes a few bites.

Victor nods. “Yes! Though, I mean…” He drinks his soda. “I admit I’m not used to doing the chasing. I’m usually the one being chased.”

“It’s good for the soul,” Chris replies. “I chased Baz.”

Victor’s face becomes a blank stare. “But you *bleeeeeep* in a bathroom at the Snakehole Lounge.”

Chris sighs as if he is dealing with a stubborn child. “That’s easy. Getting a date, that’s hard. Asking for a commitment, that’s also hard.”

Victor purses his lips into the camera. “Sure.” He polishes off the tiramisu as he reaches for the torta. 

“Vegetables do exist,” Chris points out around a mouthful of salmon.

“Yuck,” Victor responds with a grossed out expression.

 

*

 

Victor still looks grossed out as Chris pays at the register behind him.

“Vegetables, can you believe it,” he complains under his breath with a dirty look aimed at Chris.

Chris waves and blows a kiss.

 

*

 

Yuri Plisetsky spins around in his office chair while a song named “Welcome to the Madness” booms out of his computer speakers. MJ Leroy stares at him with consternation.

“Yuri?” he tries. “Yuri, can you please turn that down? It’s too hard to concentrate with your music that loud.”

Yuri makes a gesture that is blurred out by the censors. MJ shakes his head and puts on a noise-canceling pair of Beats by Dre. A sneaked shot over his shoulder at his Spotify says he’s playing the McGarrigle Sisters.

Otabek Altin comes into the Parks office wearing his familiar motorcycle leathers and sunglasses. He stands in front of Yuri’s desk for a moment, the intern too busy spinning to notice him. 

“God, Yakov what do you---” Yuri’s voice gives out as he freezes and stares. “Eep,” he squeaks.

“Hi,” Otabek says in a flat voice. “Victor said he left a check for me.”

Yuri stares like a trapped wild animal. 

He does it for so long that Otabek gives a concerned look first to a camera, then to him. “Uh.”

Yakov comes out of the office with an envelope. “Mr. Altin? Victor left this for you.”

“Thanks,” Otabek answers. He gives the check a long glance to make sure it’s written correctly. He gives Yuri another long look, clearing his throat, and then shakes Yakov’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome,” Yakov says.

Otabek goes on his way. 

Yuri makes a noise like a dying mule.

MJ has noticed none of this as he dances like a Grateful Dead fan in his chair.

 

*

Otabek pauses in front of a large mural in the hallway. It depicts a grisly massacre between settlers and Natives. It is called “The First Thanksgiving.”

He looks shook, to put it mildly.

“That intern---” he begins. “He has the eyes of a soldier.”

He realizes what he blurted out, coughs, and heads out to his Harley.

 

*

 

An austere woman with a dark brown ballerina bun and a yellow blouse walks into the Parks department. She gives MJ baleful look as he continues his awkward jam band dance before standing before Yuri. “Yes, Yakov please.”

“What do you want with Yakov?” Yuri asks in a monotone. He seems unimpressed until some recognition dawns on him. He glances into Yakov’s window at the painting of the woman on his wall---it’s her. “Uh, I mean....”

He bolts, knocks on Yakov’s door. “Lilia!” he shouts before hiding in a supply closet.

Yakov starts and exits his office. “Lilia,” he exclaims with only minor happiness.

“Yakov,” she says, equally reminiscent of a Star Trek Vulcan. “I was hoping you could leave early today. I have been given wonderful tickets to the ballet tonight in the capital. I got us reservations at your favorite steakhouse.”

“Ah yes,” Yakov agrees. He grabs his coat and gives her his arm. “Let’s go. It’s slow today.”

Lilia gives the barest hint of a smile. They exit.

An hour later, because MJ never noticed, Yuri finally comes out of hiding. “Stupid MJ,” Yuri snaps towards his desk.

MJ gets down to Gordon Lightfoot, blissfully unaware.

 

*

 

Phichit, Georgi, and a slower-moving somewhat disbelieving Yuuri walk back into City Hall laden down with bags. All of them are in different, fancier outfits than when they began, and instead of having their fringe in their faces, Phichit has gelled his in a side part while Yuuri has slicked his back as well as having ditched his eyeglasses.

“Did I really need these things?” Yuuri wonders.

“The point isn’t necessity,” Georgi reminds him. “The point is if you want it, get it.”

“I mean,” Yuuri starts. “Well...I actually do think I look nice for once.” He shifts one bag. 

“Pasta is nice,” Phichit says. “You are serving face. Slay, King. Slay.”

Georgi snaps his fingers in a Z. 

Yuuri’s cheeks turn pink, and he nods. He stops before his office, then smiles. “Thanks for this. It may not seem like it, but it was a lot of fun. I’m glad you included me.”

“Anytime!” Phichit grins. He and Georgi walk down the hall to their department, where they are greeted by a sulking intern and a Canadian with no rhythm. Georgi’s eyebrow raises as Phichit gives them a look that can’t fully be explained because of its complexity. They realize after a second that Yakov is missing.

Phichit looks at Georgi. “Let’s just call it and go get oysters and champagne.”

“Well we had all that sushi,” Georgi says. “Mercury, you know?”

“Ah yes,” Phichit says. “Hm. That fancy French place that just opened?”

“Yes. Yes. Love it. Yes,” Georgi answers.

They bail as if they never were.

 

*

Phichit sits in a wicker chair while a concertina serenades him. Georgi is in the bathroom.

“Really this is a part of a master plan,” he says. “Well, not entirely. I’d have bought the Dolce and Gabbana regardless.”

Seven orders of escargot are set in front of him. They are his and his alone.

“I figure you know, Yuuri’s sexy but not conscious of it,” he says as he pulls a snail out of its shell and chews. “Give him better clothing to make him an unstoppable force of, shall we say, _eros_ , and let’s get this him and Victor getting married and adopting six multi-ethnic orphans situation jumpstarted.”

Phichit sips a French 75. He contemplates for a moment before smiling.

Georgi sits in front of a steak tartare and smiles back.

 

*

Yuuri stands at a filing cabinet in his office and the camera pans over his black and silver outfit that skirts the government dress code. It’s a tight silk cashmere sweater with silver adornments, a gray shirt underneath, and a pair of slim black slacks.

The Tazmanian Devil-like whirlwind that is Victor Nikiforov barges into his office. “Yuuuuuriii---”

He audibly chokes and stares.

Yuuri looks at him with some confusion and a bit of startled vigilance in his gaze. “Oh, um,” he stammers in a quiet voice. “Hi, Victor. How can I help you?”

Victor doesn’t break his stare, his own face red and his eyes dilating. He mumbles for a minute.

Yuuri blinks. He changes the angle of his head and his eyebrows knit together. “Victor?”

“Drink me,” Victor says a little too loud.

Yuuri takes a reflexive step backwards. His face turns the same color as a ripe beefsteak tomato.

This snaps Victor out of his trance. “Let...I’ll start again.” He clears his throat. “Yuuri. May I take you out for a drink tonight?”

Yuuri’s expression changes to cautious and disbelieving. He fidgets for a second. “Okay,” he answers, his voice laced with rough edges like sandpaper.

Victor’s face illuminates. “Okay.”

 

*

Yakov nurses a scotch in a sports jacket and tie as Lilia excuses herself to the powder room. The steakhouse is dark wood and red tablecloths like something out of the Godfather. Yakov is, more than ever, in his element.

“I’m a simple man,” he tells the camera. “I like pretty dark-haired women and steak.”

He takes a sip.

“Lilia is perfect,” he continues. “She doesn’t talk much. She likes spending time in my cabin listening to her Tchaikovsky 45s. We have a good time around each other. I indulge her with the ballet four times a year.”

Lilia glides back into the room.

Yakov gives a small smile.

“Meant to be,” he says.

 

*

Chris stirs something in a pan as a man with longish dark hair comes out of their master suite in a sweatshirt in the Swiss flag and a pair of comfy lounge pants. A dainty yet fluffy white cat sleeps on their kitchen table as if she owns the place.

“Work was good today,” Chris says. “Though one patient had a terrible issue with----”

“Christophe Giacometti, we have rules about this when it’s close to mealtime,” Baz cuts him off with a grin.

“Yes, _petit_ ,” Chris responds with a smirk.

Baz sets the table and Chris dishes up the saffron risotto. They eat in spite of the cat’s presence, though she does open her eyes and yawns, stretching her claws and beans before turning into a fluffy ball and napping again.

“By the way,” Baz says halfway into the meal. “How’s Victor? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Hopelessly in love with a Japanese accountant,” Chris answers. “So, fine.”

Baz freezes. “Victor’s in love? Victor who’s shunned dating since...you know. The Incident.”

Chris shudders at the mention of The Incident. The Incident would live on in infamy. Victor does not permit its mention. “Yes. He found someone, and his heart has thawed. If he’d just get it together and actually make a move on Yuuri---”

Baz gives a dumbfounded look at the camera. “What’s preventing it?”

Chris finishes his food and clears both of their plates, leaning down to kiss Baz on the lips. He washes the dishes in the sink. Baz stands behind him and slides his arms around his waist. 

“Feel like a film?” Baz asks.

“No,” Chris answers.

“Bed early then,” Baz says with a kiss to Chris’s neck.

“Yes,” he replies, his voice going sultry.

Baz smiles and they turn off the kitchen lights.

The cat awakens, stretches, and follows.

 

*

Chris gives the camera a pointed look.

“Vitya is an idiot, is the reason why he hasn’t gotten it together,” he says. 

The lights go dim in the bedroom behind him.

Chris closes the door. “Night night,” he sings with a wink.

 

*

The bar is really more like a speakeasy with boutique cocktails and Yuuri looks confused by his options. “Um---” His eyes light up. “Wait, I know what a daiquiri is. One of those.”

Victor orders something called a Mezcal Mule, and they give each other the once over. “This is a different look for you,” Victor says. “You’re lovely.”

Yuuri smiles, a pleased flush filling his features including the tips of his ears. “Phichit insisted.”

Victor’s smile wavers. “Phichit.”

“Yes,” Yuuri says. Their drinks arrive, and he is notably confused that his drink isn’t frozen. “He and Georgi took me out along with them for their Treat Yo’Self day. Phichit shoved me at a personal shopper and gave the thumbs up or down. Then I bought a near-mint run of the original Wolverine miniseries, which sometimes I groan at because of the...we’ll call it casual 80s racism. But Frank Miller’s art is just too good to pass up.”

“There’s a lot to unpack there,” Victor says. His face matches his words. Something clicks. “Oh, Georgi went too!”

His relief may as well be a tangible object.

“Yes, he also bought a lot of new clothes and a watch,” Yuuri says. “And we had an extremely decadent sushi lunch. I didn’t realize how much they ordered until it arrived. It was surprisingly good for being in a landlocked small town.”

Victor eyes Yuuri over his drink. “We make do.” 

Yuuri sees the scrutiny and, even in the dim lighting, flushes. He sips his drink again, and clears his throat. His free hand rests on the bar top, and Victor, seemingly without conscious thought, moves his hand within two centimeters of Yuuri’s. Yuuri notices, and while shyly looking away, his hand moves a slight bit towards Victor’s. 

Victor gives a wink to the camera, and stretches his pinky, stroking the back of Yuuri’s thumb. Yuuri’s flush darkens, but he reciprocates, his thumb stroking the inside of Victor’s finger. Victor’s cheeks darken, and he smiles, signals for the check, and finishes his drink. He leans into Yuuri, his lips barely not touching his ear. “Want to get out of here?”

Yuuri looks in his eyes with an expression that says he believes he’s being Punked. Something convinces him of the truth, and he licks his lips. “Yeah.”

Victor leaves enough cash for both cocktails plus tip, and he escorts Yuuri out of the speakeasy to his car with a hand on his back. They arrive at Victor’s house, and Victor decides instead of unlocking his door to pull Yuuri into a kiss. Yuuri initially freezes, but then his hands tangle in Victor’s hair and Victor manages without looking to get his keys and unlock his front door. 

They stumble into it without taking a moment to pause, and the door slams shut behind them. There’s the sound of a dog barking excitedly in the house as a light turns on.

 

*

Victor prances into the Parks Department five minutes late the following morning in a gray and aquamarine sweater and a pair of slacks instead of his usual sharply-tailored suits. He’s whistling “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” as he more or less pirouettes into his shared office. 

Yuri stares with a mildly ill expression. Georgi and Phichit have matching looks of confusion.

MJ nods a few times with satisfaction.

 

*

“The only time Victor dresses down and whistles Sting is when he’s just gotten laid,” MJ explains _sotto voce_. 

Victor has moved on to “Fields of Gold.” He sways as he files paperwork and reads over more data about the new city park plan he wants to implement.

MJ watches him go for a while with a combination of admiration and pleasure. 

Victor gets coffee from their office Keurig and glides back to his desk. Phichit turns to him and stares while Victor continues to whistle, though this time it’s Kylie Minogue’s “Burning Up.”

MJ shrugs. “I’m the only one besides Yakov who’s worked here long enough to know this. Phichit started around his last break up three years ago, and Georgi was a month after him.”

Victor has a bright smile that doesn’t waver even when Yakov sternly asks for some old budget paperwork. Phichit continues to stare at Victor with barely disguised concern before something seems to register with him. His expression becomes a combination of cheery and smug. 

Victor whistles “Fell in Love with a Girl” by the White Stripes.

MJ’s eyes widen. “Wow, if he’s whistling that, he’s fallen _hard_ ,” he observes.

 

*

 

Yuri Plisetsky sits on a bench outside of city hall to take his allotted break for lunch. He folds himself into this oddly-intense body posture seldom seen outside of a Bikram studio and bites into a giant thing of fried dough, munching with the most pleasure the film crew has seen to date.

“My family’s from Moscow,” he says. “ _Dedushka_ makes these every week so I can have quick lunches.”

The camera pans to the food---it’s a pirozhki. 

He takes a large bite of dough and cabbage, turning to the side to watch a group of geese at the pond nearby. He sets the pirozhki down and puts on his oversized headphones as the hint of Icelandic metal can be heard through them.

Yuri is so caught up in his music and his food he doesn’t notice the Harley pulling up to the curb near his bench. The rider takes off their helmet, and it’s Otabek Altin. Otabek sets his helmet down on the back of his bike and stands in front of Yuri. 

Yuri jumps at the silhouette blocking the sun. He blinks, wide-eyed, as he takes off his headphones. He stares.

“Hi,” Otabek says. “I noticed at the dance last week you seemed to like my mixes.”

Yuri squeaks, giving the camera a look as if he’s begging for help.

Otabek blinks. “Well...here.” He thrusts a piece of paper at Yuri. It’s an ad for a special theme night at the Snakehole Lounge where Otabek is the featured DJ. He also hands Yuri a free pass. 

Yuri stares at the ticket in stunned silence. 

Otabek blinks again, then makes a strange noise of his own. “Are you going to come or not?”

Yuri looks up at Otabek, and, for the first time, is capable of real speech. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Otabek gets the barest hint of a smile. “Cool. See you around.”

He sits on his hog as he puts his helmet back into place, driving off with his engine roaring back into the ether. Yuri watches him go until he’s too small to see.

He puts the ticket in his hoodie pocket, and he resumes his music with a soft smile.

 

*

Yuuri Katsuki sits in his office crunching numbers on his work provided laptop. His hair is slicked back like the day before, but he has his glasses on this time, and it’s a Look.

“Celestino and I are only here for three months,” he says out loud. “91 days.”

He glances at a calendar, then looks up just as Victor walks past his office door, which is open. Victor looks into it as he passes, giving Yuuri a bright smile and a blown kiss. Yuuri smiles back, then when Victor is out of view his face grows somber. He gives the calendar a lot of scrutiny.

“91 days,” he says again. “81 to go.”

His mood dips from somber to heavily sad. His eyes fixate on the space Victor just occupied seconds ago.

“81 to go,” he reiterates. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion, and he focuses on his work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 90s night at the Snakehole Lounge!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No excuse for why this took forever, sorry y'all.
> 
> I love Isabella Yang a lot, and I believe she's above the world's pay grade, as Chris says. Hence how she ended up as Gayle.
> 
> Look Phichit doesn't do things halfway. He just doesn't.
> 
> Uhhhhhh I can't remember more than this right now but if you have questions ask in the comments. I need to eat dinner and some inconsiderate neighbor is having a barbeque nearby that I can smell and yet am not being given food from. Rude af.

Katsuki Yuuri lounges in an apartment elegantly decorated in soothing shades of teal and silver. He is on a couch covered in four different fur blankets and is surrounded by soft velvet throw pillows. Before him on the mirrored coffee table is a delectable — and pricey — array of snacks. Fine cheeses, fruit confit, fresh figs imported from California, every kind of olive imaginable, lavender and local honeys, and three different chilled bottles of rose round out the spread.

Yuuri looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating.

*

“We’re…playing video games,” Yuuri says to the camera with a bit of disbelief. “When I have friends over, we order a pizza or some Chinese food and drink a case of beer. He spent hundreds of dollars on the two of us…”

A Roomba with an iPod attached whirrs in circles around him playing Pitbull’s “Fireball.”

Yuuri gives the camera another look; his eyes sparkle and his smile almost splits his face in two.

“I never want to leave!” he cries out.

*

Phichit settles next to Yuuri in a velour jacket over a metallic t-shirt with a print of skulls. His socks are fuzzy, royal purple, and thick. Yuuri wears a more benign outfit of jeans with the hems rolled up and a Letters to Cleo t-shirt.

Phichit files through the games in his PSN account, looking for something with a multiplayer option. He gives Yuuri a sidelong glance as Yuuri puts some brie on a cracker with a fig. “So—“

Yuuri freezes with the cracker between his lips. He gives Phichit a confused look.

“Victor’s been in a good mood lately,” Phichit asks with faux innocence like a kid who doesn’t know how the marker got on the walls, really mom, he swears. 

Yuuri swallows his bite. His cheeks darken, and he pushes up his glasses. “Um. Has he?”

“Mhm,” Phichit picks Marvel versus Capcom 3. “Dibs on Rocket. Yeah, he’s been really carefree since…hm…I think Treat Yo’Self Day. Wonder what happened.”

Yuuri fidgets. “Um.”

“It’d be interesting,” Phichit continues as he hands Yuuri his controller. Yuuri, who is searching for an escape, selects Amaterasu. “If maybe he found someone. Right? Wouldn’t that be neat?”

Yuuri shovels more cheese into his mouth and won’t make eye contact.

The match begins and Phichit easily KOs Yuuri within moments. Yuuri’s face is that of a man whose soul has detached from his body. DJ Roomba cheerfully switches from Pitbull to “Electric Lady” by Janelle Monae. 

Phichit gives Yuuri a sly look. 

Yuuri swallows. “Um.”

Phichit stares openly as he sips some rose. His chin rests on his freehand as he drinks the wine through a teal and silver Kikkerland straw. Even his paper products are incredibly high end. The napkins for today, a video game hang out, are monogrammed. _Phichit and Yuuri, new BFFS_ they proclaim in silver script.

Yuuri chugs his rose. He blinks after he finishes a second glass in the same manner. “Okay. Don’t tell anyone, because…I mean…Celestino doesn’t care, he never has, but I don’t know about _Yakov_ or the _Mayor_ or your _City Manager_ —“

“The City Manager died,” Phichit states. “Weird accident involving a piano and a mounted swordfish. We try not to bring it up.”

Yuuri forgets his awkwardness, because everything in world would be derailed by that. “A mounted swordf—never mind.” He sighs. “Okay. Um. Victor and I are—I guess, we’re…I’ve been to his house a few times since the shopping trip.”

Phichit sips, making noise and blowing bubbles with his straw. “To help him rearrange his furniture? To help him groom Makkachin? To teach him to cook authentic Sichuan cuisine?”

Yuuri makes a noise like a creaking door. He shoves his fists into his eyes.

“Or…” Phichit continues. “Have you been going to his house to…”

“WE’RE BANGING, OKAY?” Yuuri screeches, no longer able to handle the pressure. He realizes what he’s done, clapping a hand over his mouth with a face full of moritifcation. He pleads with the cameras to save him. They do not.

Phichit is pleased as punch. “Ah yes. Well. Good.” He thumps Yuuri on the shoulder. “Keep it up, sport. You seem good together.” 

The game continues, though it takes several more matches before Yuuri returns to Earth and manages to be a worthy opponent.

*

Victor sits at the conference table after hours in the Parks department. Yakov grudgingly holds court at the opposite end from him. He sighs. “Victor,” he says. “I know you’re determined to get this funded, but—“

Victor looks up with visible confusion. “Yakov? I didn’t know you were still here.”

Yakov makes a sound like Sideshow Bob on the Simpsons. Makkachin, who Victor was able to sneak in as it’s a weekend day, perks his head up and tilts it with slight confusion at the noise. Victor reaches down and gives Makkachin several scritches behind an ear. Appeased, the dog resumes his nap.

Yakov rubs his shiny, shiny forehead. “Victor. Go home. Go to a club. Go on a date. Just—try to have a life.”

“I’ve been on several dates since Wednesday,” Victor cheerily points out.

His eyes widening, Yakov gives the camera a look. “You have?”

“Yes,” Victor says, bubbling over like a carbonated drink that was shaken. “I’ve been romancing Yuuri! He adores Makkachin, we’ve made food and talked and—“ He clears his throat. “Well. Anyways—he’s wonderful, and I really am very happy!”

Yakov raises an eyebrow. “Victor—you know they’re only here for a few months, right?”

Victor, who is opening his photos to his brand-new “Yuuri” folder, freezes. “Oh.”

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Yakov asks, not unkind. 

“Well, we can—travel to each other!” Victor begins. It’s a different kind of enthusiasm from a moment ago—clearly not fully genuine. “His city’s only…two hours each way by car! We’ll take turns visiting, and then down the road—“ He stops talking. His resolve is real. “We’ll make it work! We’ll make it happen! We’ll turn it around!”

Yakov wants to argue. He chooses to refrain. “Just—get some rest, for once.” He shakes his head and leaves. 

Makkachin sits up and puts his face on Victor’s thigh. Victor pets him, ignoring his work for a while. Then he texts someone. He receives a reply, nodding his head, and he puts away his paperwork. “Come on, Makka, let me run you home,” he says. 

Makkachin bolts onto all fours and follows his daddy out the building to his car.

*

Yuri Plisetsky tries to play it cool in the line to enter the Snakehole Lounge. He’s pretty sure his fake ID will help a brother out, but nonetheless it’s his first use of it, and he’s concerned. He’s dressed differently than normal—he looks like a widow at the funeral of her stinking rich husband who died under mysterious circumstances. 

The bouncer looks at the pass Otabek gave him and his ID, waving him through. Yuri nods, biting on his cigarette holder, and steps in. Once inside he jumps up and down four times before recalling other people exist and slinking to the bar. “Uh…” he begins when the bartender gives him the once over. The next time he speaks he sounds like Katharine Hepburn with her trademark Trans-Atlantic accent.

Not even he seems to know why.

“Gin martini, make it dirty,” he says before chomping on the cigarette holder again. 

“You can’t smoke in here,” the bartender points out.

Yuri nods and puts some cash in the tip jar. He continues to look around—it’s a 90s party theme night, so his outfit is way off, but he looks better than all the plebes walking around in Salvation Army acquired flannels and “ironic” Nirvana t-shirts. 

He did wear his leopard Vans though. He has to keep on brand, even if only a little.

Otabek is at his rig in a RUN DMC t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of acid wash jeans. His shoes are secondhand Docs. 

Yuri’s eyes shine like fire opals.

The music starts, and Yuri receives his drink. He takes a sip and spits it across the floor. The bartender stares at him with displeasure. “I always do this,” Yuri says in the strange voice. “It’s who I am.”

The bartender openly rolls his eyes in the camera’s direction, and Yuri considers taking his tip back.

The song is some 90s dance hit about how the crowd’s going to sweat and everbody needs to dance now. The bulk of the patrons go wild, and Yuri doesn’t quite understand their actual moves on the floor but he thinks he saw them in some movie on TBS one night.

Otabek has one headphone to his ear as he adjusts the quality of the mix. His eyes rove across the crowd and he meets Yuri’s gaze, holding it and electrifying the air between them. Yuri drops the cigarette holder to his side.

Otabek gives him a thumbs-up with a small smile. The next song plays, and it’s a dance hit about finding love. Yuri can’t help but smile. 

* 

Yuri looks at Otabek swapping tracks. The new one sounds like ABBA but is actually Ace of Base. 

“Maybe he likes me,” Yuri says. 

In the background, Otabek looks for Yuri. He dims a bit when he can’t find him, but goes back to work.

*

Victor holds court at Snakehole with Chris and Baz, the three of them standing at a bar table with drinks. Baz has an arm around Chris’s waist, the two of them looking deliciously in love. Victor picks up his phone, puts it down, then repeats this half a dozen times.

Chris sighs. “Vitya.”

“Should I call him?” he says. “No…I mean…we’re just…it’s just fun. So.”

Baz sips his Tuaca. “If you want him here, call him.”

“Should I?” Victor asks. “Maybe he’ll think it’s too much. Maybe he’ll think I’m clingy.”

“You are, but he may be into that,” Chris deadpans. “Worth a shot.”

Victor lights up. “You’re right! You’re such a beautiful, opalescent tree shark!” 

Baz spits out his drink while Chris furrows his brows with a slighty fearful smile. “Thanks?”

Victor sends a flurry of texts, and after a minute, his phone vibrates. He picks it up, his smile as bright as the neon in the desert oasis that is Vegas. “He’s coming!”

Chris and Baz nod with pleased expressions. Georgi walks up with a bottle of Zima. His face as he takes a sip demonstrates that Zima—the entirety of the brand, not just the one bottle—is a Mistake.

A couple tears up the dancefloor with various 90s dances like the Carlton and the Cabbage Patch. It’s quite impressive, and everyone applauds them. They’re dressed all-in for the theme—neon hats, Hypercolor t-shirts that still work, Hammer pants, and Air Jordans. It is quite a sight to behold, and the woman’s long, dark bob flies back and forth as they bust a move.

Georgi freezes with the bottle halfway to his mouth. “Is that MJ?”

Victor, Chris, and Baz look. Sure enough, half the couple doing the running man is MJ Leroy. “Huh,” Victor says eloquently.

“That’s his wife?” Chris askes. His eyebrows are sky high.

“Yeah, I guess,” Georgi replies.

“Talk about marrying above your pay grade,” Chris continues. “Wow.”

Baz gives Chris a raised eyebrow. 

“Still gay,” Chris remarks with a grin. “But I can appreciate her like art.”

Everyone nods in agreement. Yuuri enters the Snakehole Lounge then followed by, to Victor’s obvious dismay, Phichit. Victor grumbles and throws back the rest of his drink. “Yuuriiiiii——“ he calls like a peacock displaying for its mate. He even stands so he looks two inches taller. 

Chris, Georgi, and Baz all give deadpan looks at the camera.

“Hi, Victor,” Yuuri says with a bright, sexy smile and a strangely languid tone to his voice.

“Shots!” Phichit shouts in lieu of a salutation. He grins at his buddies and the camera, then he heads to the bar. 

“Hi Yuuri,” Victor says with hearts in his eyes. “Were…you having fun with Phichit?”

Yuuri fails to hear the jealousy in his tone. “We played a lot of Overwatch and I ate my weight in truffle brie. Also some day drinking. Phichit is a rose fan.”

“Are you?” Victor says, leaning close with a soft grin.

Surprisingly, Yuuri puts his hand on his chest with a coy smile. Chris, Baz, and Georgi look like National Geographic photographers spotting a long-thought extinct animal in the wild, like those Chinese rabbits that look like cats. Yuuri bites his bottom lip and gives Victor straight-up bedroom eyes. “I like you,” he giggles.

Victor looks like he just got 80 presents for Chanukah instead of eight. 

“Phichit Ubered us here,” Yuuri continues. “We’re day drunk. Four bottles of fancy rose. Now he’s getting us shots.” Yuuri pitches into Victor with a loud coo. “I like you. You’re sexy. And like…your dog is cool.”

Victor’s brain looks like it’s shut down.

Yuuri fidgets with a button on Victor’s shirt. “Come dance with me,” he pleads. 

“Anything,” Victor blurts.

Yuuri smirks, pulling Victor to the dance floor by his shirt front. Victor goes willingly as if Yuuri is a Pied Piper and he’s under his spell.

“Well then,” Georgi pipes up.

Phichit returns with a cocktail waitress carrying a tray of Patron Silver shots, salt shakers, and a bowl of lime wedges. “Get it,” he commands.

On the dance floor, Yuuri pulls Victor into the Lambada. People around them are scandalized as much as they are intrigued.

*  
Phichit is on his third shot of the Patron. He licks salt off his wrist, shoots the tequila, and sucks the lime. “Woo!” 

He shrugs, the camera panning to his change in outfit—he’s now in an Armani jacket with a 90s Kurt Cobain shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. 

“I tell you, it’s like I’m an elephant,” he says. He is about as drunk as Yuuri, who continues to grind on a flushed and overly-sweaty Victor in the background. “I walk in a room, and everyone is like ‘oh, he’s in there’!”

Phichit does another shot.

Chris comes to him. “Hey I think maybe you should have a glass of water—“

“Bitch, don’t kill my vibe!” Phichit snaps. He slaps the water out of Chris’s hand, then looks at his mess. “Oh no, land mermaids,” he says dejectedly.

Chris eyes the camera. “He’s saucy when he’s ten sheets to the wind.” 

Baz hands Phichit a different glass of water. This time, Phichit accepts it and gulps it down.

*

Yuri struggles with the gin for so long until he throws the entire thing into the trash including the glassware and gets a Blue Motorcyle instead. It doesn’t go with his aesthetic, but it doesn’t taste like the water in his family’s live Christmas tree when the tree has been on its way out for five days, and so he can actually make headway with it. 

He also grabs Otabek a water and a Red Bull. Otabek’s set is winding down, his replacement whispering to him as he preps his own playlist. Otabek nods with a slight smile as Yuri realizes he has fingerless gloves on. “That’s hot,” he says in a weird melange of Paris Hilton and Kate Hepburn. It’s like he has marbles in his mouth. Otabek comes down from the booth, searching through the crowd, and Yuri beelines for him. “Otabek,” he says in his weird accent.

Otabek looks him up and down. “Mrs. White, did your husband disappear?”

Yuri’s seen that movie. He’s seen that movie at least ten times. “He was an illusionist.” He offers him his choice of drink. Otabek starts with the Red Bull.

“But he never reappeared,” he replies in an accent like Tim Curry’s.

“Not a very good illusionist,” Yuri finishes with a shrug. 

Otabek smiles, though it’s a bit small. Yuri returns the favor. 

The Spice Girls kick into high gear, and Yuri sips his drink while Otabek does the same, their eyes locked on each other. “Do you dance?” Otabek asks.

“Not to this, it’s for losers,” Yuri default replies. He realizes what Otabek does for his livelihood and cringes. “Uh—“

“Honestly, it’s not my scene,” Otabek says as he finishes the Red Bull. “I’m more of a Candlebox and Stone Temple Pilots guy if I’m limited to this decade.” He fishes something out of his back pocket. “Here. This is yours.”

It’s a thumb drive that says _for the angry cat_. Yuri will treasure it always. “Is this a mixtape?” 

“Yup,” Otabek replies. “Keep it.”

Yuri looks like he’s this close to bailing on the club and listening to it immediately. “Cool,” he says instead.

“Cool,” Otabek replies. 

They stand on the periphery, watching the crowd. Yuri makes a grossed out face when he sees Inferior Yuuri is in only his undershirt and boxer briefs; he is also basically doing Victor on the dance floor. Victor looks like he’s died and gone to heaven, which makes it even worse. 

Yuri makes a grabled hissing noise, then blushes when he remembers what Otabek called him. He gives him a crooked smile. Otabek nods.

*

“Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros,” Otabek says thoughtfully as he watches Yuri get another cocktail. Yuri gets into a bit of a spat with the bartender, this time ending up with something hot pink in a rocks glass.

Otabek watches with interest. 

“Hope he works with me,” he says. “Hope he gets it.”

*

The Macarena booms out of the speakers.Patrons who are still sober and of a certain age look like war flashbacks have filled their minds. The super drunk people think it’s amazing and lose any semblance of dignity. 

Instead of actually doing the proper dance, a desperately smitten Victor Nikiforov follows Yuuri’s lead, unable to take his eyes or hands off him. He looks like Yuuri could become a vile monster with fangs, wings, and fire surrounding him carrying him down into the ninth layer of Hell, and he’d ask if he should bring sweaters in case it’s chilly in the evenings.

MJ and his wife nearby are doing the Macarena the way it is meant to be done, for good or ill. He notices Victor and Yuuri, giving them a big smile. “Hey guys!” he chirps over the music.

Victor manages to tear his eyes off his man. “Hi, MJ. Hi, Isabella.”

Isabella smiles, her neon pink lipstick accentuating the flawless alignment of her pearly white teeth. Chris is right—she is absolutely beyond MJ’s pay grade. She’s beyond everyone’s. “Victor! So nice running into you! We still use the Scentsy warmer you gave us at the party!”

Victor hesitates as he’d regifted that from a friend who is a little too into being a rep for the company. “I’m…so glad!”

Yuuri eyes them with suspicion. His arms arrange themselves around Victor’s torso and waist like a tentacle monster as he dares them to pry Victor away. The Leroys smile at him, blissfully unaware. “Yuuri, you’re an awesome dancer,” MJ says. “You can teach us a thing or two!”

Yuuri doesn’t respond, pulling Victor in tighter. He nuzzles into Victor’s neck, doing something that makes Victor yelp in Russian instead of his usual English. His cheeks turn dark red. “We’re gonna go!” he squeaks as he basically sprints out of the club with a stumbling almost-indecent state auditor dragged behind him. 

“Byeeeeee,” Yuuri offers without even sparing a glance.

*

Victor wears a wine red cashmere sweater and a pair of black trousers the next morning as he drinks a liter of coconut water through a straw.

“Electrolytes,” he explains between sips. “I was kept…really active all night.”

He clears his throat loudly as he throws the container into the trash. Then he gathers notes, a thumb drive with a Power Point presentation, and a photocopied proposals.

“Right,” Victor says with a wide grin. “Showtime!”

*  
The City Council sits at a raised dais in a large number of chairs, one for each councillor. It’s a normal session, and they’re listening at the moment to Victor’s proposal about the abandoned lot.

Yuuri stands against the back wall with Celestino with his head titled to the left as he listens to Victor’s impassioned pleas for approval on the project. 

“He’s quite passionate,” Celestino points out as Victor gestures with wild motions.

“And the neighborhood children will greatly benefit—“ Victor elaborates. “The parents have a safe space for their outdoor play! They can better make friends with their neighbors! Not to mention property values—“

“I’ve watched him rehearse this,” Yuuri whispers without taking his eyes off Victor, the play of his muscles in his back through the sweater. The women present in the gallery—in addition a large swath of the men—ogle him openly as well. The oldest councilor on the board licks his lips and adjusts how he sits with no concept of shame, causing Yuuri’s mouth to turn into an interesting, nauseated shape while a jealous spark ignites behind his glasses. “I gave him a little feedback on some parts that I felt needed refining.”

Celestino, in the middle of dry swallowing his daily allotment of St. John’s Wart, gives Yuuri a puzzled look. “You have time for that during the audit?”

“No, it’s been at his hou—“ Yuuri’s eyes widen. His next words are laced with panic and a unique brand of bad lying. “I mean. He asked for advice, so I went to his house. He made dinner. He has a nice dog that makes me miss Vicchan! He’s a good person who cares and I helped him with his caring about things! He cares! A lot! I admire it! I am not at all falling for him!”

Celestino gives the camera a disbelieving look. Then he clears his throat and swallows the herbal supplement. “Okay.”

Yuuri takes a few deep breaths, wiping his sweaty palms off on his pants as Victor finishes his impassioned pleas. 

The councillors mumble back and forth for a while. Yuuri watches the subtle change in Victor’s spine, from loose yet confident to rigid and unsure. He can’t see his face, but he can imagine the look on it—his eyes appear sad and hard, his mouth losing its characteristic smile.

“We can’t make a decision at this time,” Councilman Boitano finishes. “We need to review too many budgetary concerns—once Mr. Cialdini and Mr. Katsuki have completed their audit, we can reconsider. For now, this has to be placed on hold.”

Yuuri, the camera, Celestino, the room—it’s visible by Victor’s posture that he’s unhappy. Yakov sits in the front row along with the younger Yuri, MJ, and Phichit. Phichit’s face is a subtle wince, Yuri openly rolls his eyes, and Yakov inclines his head in a way that implies a lack of surprise.

Yuuri frowns as he takes a half step forward before remembering himself.

“If there’s no other business than this session—“

“Wait!” Victor holds a hand out in a gesture telling them to stop. “Wait! What if the Parks Department hosts an event, something town wide to fund at least part of the construction and landscaping? Would that allow the project to move forward?”

Celestino squints. “What is he doing? We haven’t finished the budget proposals, especially not to the point of putting on an event of that size.”

“Sh,” Yuuri says. Celestino isn’t offended—he obeys while Yuuri listens more attentively.

“The Harvest Festival,” Victor says. “What if we bring it out of retirement? It’s mostly self-sustaining financially, and the profits can go the lot project. We have—“ He checks the date on his Apple Watch. There’s an awkward expression on his face. “It’s do-able! It’s do-able! We just need—“

“Victor!” Yakov can’t help but interject. His expression is that of a rational man questioning another’s sanity. 

“We just need to have a few open town halls,” Victor steamrolls as if his boss said nothing. “I’ll arrange meetings with Sweetums and other local industries for sponsorships…it’s easily handled!” Victor then turns oddly intense, everyone recoiling from him in a steathly way. “ _Let me have this._ ”

Yuuri’s face becomes an odd mixture of attraction and intimidation.

The councillors again talk among themselves. “We stopped the Harvest Festival ten years ago because of…you know… _that_.”

“I mean, yes,” Victor says. “But there was no way to know the mayor would get hit in the face by that Scrambler car! And he’s recovered—I would never know his jaw was 80% reconstructed, for example, and the—“

Victor trails off noticing the wide-eyed and angry look from Yakov. 

“I mean. Yes. Well. I’d say let’s give it one last go, right? And if it doesn’t succeed this time, we bury it for good!” he finishes with his hands folded primly on his podium.

“I think it’s a fine idea,” says a dark-haired chiseled man. Councilman Lambiel, his placard reads. He favors Victor with a bright grin. “Let’s put it to a vote! All in favor—“ The majority of the hands raise. “All opposed?” The remaining two go up. 

“There’s your answer, Deputy Director,” says Councilwoman Medvedeva. “Don’t let us down.”

The council adjourns, and once they’re gone, Victor’s relief is palpable. Yuuri beelines as Yakov does, though Yakov has a shorter distance. “Are you out of your mind?” Yakov says. “You didn’t even clear this with me first!”

“There wasn’t time, I needed a definitive right now!” Victor responds. “Besides, it’ll make us look good.”

Yakov grabs the bridge of his nose as he makes a choked sound. “Fine. This is on you, Victor. I won’t take the fall if you fail.”

“He won’t fail,” Yuuri says. 

Everyone stares at him—Yuri with irritation, Phichit with curiosity, Yakov with disbelief, Celestino with concern. “He won’t fail, I won’t let it happen. I’ll do the heavy lifting too.”

Victor’s eyes shimmer. “Yuuuuuuuri!”

Yuuri gives him a shaky smile.

*

Yuuri sits on the edge of his desk in his office, holding his glasses in his right hand.

A bleep sounds as he shouts a word, drawing it out for a solid forty-five seconds.

“I’m why we can’t have nice things,” he grouses when he’s done. “Human Disaster, Katsuki *bleep*ing Yuuri.”

A delivery girl walks in, and Yuuri signs a receipt, taking a suspciously large order as he’s the only one present besides the film crew. It consists of four different calzones and a two liter of Coke. Yuuri takes rage-bites of three of them. Then he sighs, burying his face in his hands. 

“I can’t—“

There’s a knock on his door. It’s Victor. “Yuuri!” he greets with a warm smile. “Thank you, it means so much to me.”

Yuuri brightens and dims all at once. “I—I know.”

Victor closes the distance, bending to bridge the gap and kisses him like his life depends on it. When they part, he strokes Yuuri’s hair.

Then a funny look crosses his face.

“…What are you eating?” Victor asks with thinly veiled disgust.

“Calzones,” Yuuri replies. “Like a pizza but inside out.”

“No,” Victor says. “This is…not to be discussed with pizza as if it’s worthy of the comparison.”

Yuuri gives Victor a concerned look. “…Sure.”

He looks at the camera with confusion while Victor expounds upon ideas for the Harvest Festival. Then he sighs, a small smile at the corners of his lips. There’s clearly nowhere he’d rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at sinkingorswimming!


End file.
